She's Made Her Mark
by Queenie and Kate
Summary: Mimi, realizing her eventual death, takes a page from Mark and Roger's book and seeks to immortalize herself, through words. UPDATED 091302: Mimi reflects on Benny and Roger talks about MonkeyMan. RR please!
1. February 23

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She's Made Her Mark

By: Erin (Kate)

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February 23, Age 20

Today's my 20th birthday. Yes, so I lied to Roger that Christmas Eve. I wasn't 19 yet. But it was close enough and I've always liked to advertise myself as older. For someone as tiny and young looking as me, any age you can add is an advantage. And with Roger Davis you need an advantage. I knew that the minute I saw him. Besides, the second he said I looked 16, I was set on the defensive. He knows I wasn't 19 yet, he figured it out when Angel woke us up at 7 in the morning to "Wish Me a Happy 19th!" He didn't mind that I lied for long... not after our "birthday celebration".

Anyway, I know you're probably blinking at this in shock. Mimi Marquez with a diary? Well, you know, this isn't the first one. I've been keeping a diary since I was 12. They're all in my closet, if I'm not here to... I'm sorry. Mark always tells me not to dwell in the negative-No Day But Today-but I have to face facts. I'm sick. Not just HIV, full-blown AIDS. And... when I'm... not here, you can read them. I'd actually like that... to be remembered, to have people know things I've never been ready to say. I can be immortalized in a way. Maybe someone can make a movie of the week out of my life. It would be darkish though... maybe it'd have to be on TLC or something... they're usually more accepting.

I got off-topic. I guess I'm tired. I haven't been sleeping too well lately, ever since...

I write like I think. With the "..."s and fragments and trailing off. Anyway, I know this'll sound weird, because diaries aren't meant to be read. But this one is. You'll know who you are when you'll read this far. You'll know I trust you.

I'm... well, I'm planning to summarize my life in here. I don't want to force you to read through 8 years worth of books. Whining, incoherent druggie ramblings... I even have some stereotypical against in there. As hard as it is to believe.

I just heard the door open. Guess it's time for my "birthday celebration". Even if it is just a stupid party, nothing the same as last year. Roger says he's afraid of hurting me, because I'm "fragile" right now. I guess I'll just have to show him that I'm not so fragile.

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Author's Note: Well that was short-ish, but I like the idea of Mimi having a diary... And, of course, each entry will be a chapter... :) Anyway, I hope you guys like this idea too... Reviews would be **_sooo_ **gladly appricated! 

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Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine, although the diary concept is... I think.

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	2. February 25

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February 25

Sorry, tired yesterday. I made my point with Roger on my birthday. Guess he doesn't think I'm quite so fragile anymore. Maybe I overdid it that night... but I had to celebrate. It was my 20th! A fifth of a century old. Who even knows if I'll live to be a fourth of a century? Angel didn't. Mi Dios, I miss her so much.

I'm sorry. I'm not up to that point. Goodness, I haven't even started. My name is Mimi Brigida Marquez. I don't know what kind of mother names her daughter Mimi. A tired one, I guess. I was the youngest of nine kids. Mamá was only 28 when she had me. Mi Dios, she's not even 50 yet and her Mimi-bebé is _20_. It's damned ridiculous. Daddy never believed in birth control. He said "good Catholic couples" didn't. Explains why they got married when she was 16. 

Most of my siblings were born in Panama. They moved to New York four years before I was born and I've never been to Panama. Apparently they moved so my daddy could "make his fortune". He never did. Daddy died two years after I was born-Mamá wouldn't tell me why. Mamá didn't talk about him much-she couldn't raise nine kids alone, so she got married immediately after a "suitable mourning period". God damnit, I hated that man, and if I could have erased her marriage to him... 

James Mullen was a second generation Irish-American who was desperate to be known as "Father" of our little family. He actually forced us to take his last name. Luckily, Mamá said only the ones old enough to make their own decisions could chose to take his name. Thank God I wasn't old enough-it wasn't any choice. We were all petrified of him. If you were smart you learned to... well, after my 14th birthday, I learned to avoid him, and home. My oldest sister Ana always said he was "insatiable". I... um... apparently Mamá wasn't doing it for him anymore.

Angel would have made me look for a silver lining, and I guess she would have been right. After that... I spent almost all my time at school or working for school. I was determined to graduate early and move out. I fell in love with drama then too. I had a lead in my school musical too, you know?

Diana in A Chorus Line. A Latina role, but I was damn talented, promise. Mamá actually came to see me. And she didn't bring James. Excuse me, "Father". I do love my mother. How could I not? She's the sweetest, kindest woman I've ever known... just a victim. And James was there. So I couldn't stay. Mamá knew that.

I'm getting off topic and rambling again. I meant to talk about my last year of high school. I met a very significant man that year

Damn, I just heard Roger's footsteps. I don't want anyone to know about this until I'm done.

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Author's Note: Um... Mimi has issues? Oooh, and there's a birthday theme going on, kind of, I'm not sure if anyone sees it. Let me know how I did?

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Disclaimer: Mimi, Roger and Angel are all Jonathan Larson's. The concept of Mimi's parents and past came from my mind, as far as I know.

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	3. February 26

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February 26

Good tip night last night. How good? I haven't told anyone yet, but I made over $1000. Big group of drunken businessmen... the older guys at the club tend to like me. I make them feel virile again. Same as I did to James, I guess, I don't know... Anyway, that's why I haven't told anyone yet... Roger would get mad if I told him why.

Plus, it's early and no one's awake yet. (I just couldn't sleep.)

My goodness, I just read over what I wrote yesterday... It's a good thing I was just recounting the past rather than writing about a current event. Otherwise whoever's reading this would be calling Social Services on my family about now. I suppose they still could... some of my siblings are still there... my nieces and nephews... in the crappy little apartment. God.

I'm sorry. My last year of high school. I met Riley Delany. He really was a man... I was 15 and he was 18... just hadn't seen the need to graduate yet. We had classes together (like I said, I graduated early, regardless of how many people think I dropped out) and, God, I wanted him more than anything.

He was a rich boy (that's originally what drew me to him) but he also had this whole... danger to him. $400 leather jacket. I guess he was like me, wanting to break the stereotypes. I didn't want to be the wild, stupid, poor little Latina girl and he didn't want to be the bored, preppy, Harvard rich boy. Silly that I let him influence me into what I didn't want to be. Maybe I was just too young.

Anyway, I don't remember the first time we talked or who asked who out. But I do remember our first date. He took me out to a real, nice restaurant and then afterwards he... took me back to his house. His parents were on some trip and Mamá wouldn't notice that one of us wasn't there-not even her Mimi-bebé. It was my first time. And my first thought was that this was what I didn't want to be. I hated myself for it.

On my 16th birthday my best friend found me a doctor that wouldn't talk to Mamá and I got on the Pill. Riley didn't like condoms. I respected that, but I couldn't get pregnant. I couldn't be my mother.

Two days after graduation I moved into an apartment Riley's parents paid for with him. I think, in a way, Mamá was glad to see me go... one less person for her to worry about. Besides, I was going to be famous. Going to be a big musical theatre actress. I went to auditions all over the place-I was sure it would be my big break soon. So was Riley. That's why he wouldn't let me work. After all, I had a lead in my school musical! Diana Morales in A Chorus Line! Look out New York City!

New York City could have cared less. School musical, so what? I had no formal training and next to those girls, I was absolutely nothing special.

I also had no money. Riley didn't like me to work-he didn't like to work either. We lived off the allowance his parents gave us. They were convinced we were deeply in love and going to get married. They also adored playing surrogate parents to the poor little minority girl... made them look good to their friends.

Not that I saw much of that money. Most of it went to support Riley's habit. Now, when I moved in with him, I knew he did drugs. That "senior year" we went to parties in the East Village that his graduated friends threw all the time. He smoked up, did heroin a few times and I sat around, drinking Diet Coke, drove him home then did whatever he wanted at night. And, well, what he wanted most often was... _me_. Even with all that, I didn't realize he had an addiction until awhile after we moved in together. He lost all want to hide it by the end of the first month, he even started _shooting up_ at home. God... I remember once... he hadn't had any for... three days, I think, and his hands were shaking too bad to melt the heroin himself. So what does he do? He has his 16-year-old girlfriend melt and inject the fucking heroin for him. Disgusting. The sad thing is, I don't think I even realized it was bad then. You'd have to read the diary to be sure (the one with the butterfly on the cover) but I really don't think I did...

On my 17th birthday I woke up alone on a dirty futon with all manners of life at its worst around me. Needles, dirty clothes, vomit, crumpled food wrappers. And, next to my head was a white baggie full of white powder, Riley's "favourite" burnt spoon, a lighter and a needle. Written on the baggie was "Happy Birthday, Babe".

Amazed me at the time that he gave up that much smack. I realized later that that must have been why he never showed up that day. Big check must have come from Mommy and Daddy so he "splurged" on his girlfriend then went out to celebrate.

At age 17, Mimi Marquez spent her birthday alone, trying to clean up the apartment her 19-year-old boyfriend had trashed long ago. At 17 and 7 hours, Mimi realized she couldn't keep this up. At 17 and 8 hours, Mimi had found the money from Riley's parents he "hid" and packed up her things. And at age 17, 8 hours and 32 minutes, Mimi Marquez tripped over Angel Dumott Schunard's plastic pickle tub on Avenue A.

And currently, Mimi's boyfriend is screaming at her that she's been locked in the bathroom for half an hour and he needs to shit. Ever charming, my Roger, isn't he? Next time, I need to find a better place to hide out and write.

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Author's Note: Hmmm... I'm not entirely sure what to say about this chapter. I like the idea of Riley... and the Mimi past concept is a little different from what I'm normally seen, so I enjoy that. ;)

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Disclaimer: Mimi Marquez, Roger Davis and Angel Dumott Schunard are all products of the genius of Jonathan Larson, while Riley, his parents and friends are all products of... well... me.

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	4. March 2

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March 2

Roger's taking a shower, that's why I feel safe, out like this and writing. Ever since that last entry, I've been thinking about Riley a lot. I've never even told Roger about him, you know? I just couldn't bring myself to... I don't know why. It always felt uncomfortable. We barely ever talk about our exes. And I certainly couldn't... can't talk to Roger about the man who dragged me into the city and was a huge part of what made me into the wild child I am today. We would hate it.

It's funny; Riley wanted to be a bored rich boy less than anything. But... the reason he was the way he was... it was because he was bored. Always looking for something more... looking for the next, better high. He once told me he wanted to shoot up and have an orgasm at the same time. I wouldn't let him, although that doesn't mean he never did it alone. God, Roger would kill me if I ever said that out loud. For some insane reason, he considers past experiences cheating.

I never did drugs when I was with Riley. I thought they were "dirty". No wonder... Look at what I woke up to on my 17th birthday. I always thought 17 would be a big deal. I guess it was... in a way... a screwed up, not the way I wanted, way.

I haven't seen Riley since my 17th birthday either. I saw one of his old friends awhile ago... God, he looked awful. Skinny, pale and shaking... he said he was going through withdrawal. I could see the track marks all up his arms though. I would have been amazed if he could find a vein anymore. I guess he saw some of my track mark scars too, because when we were out for coffee he confided in me that towards the end, he got so desperate for a fix, he started injecting between his fingers and toes. 4 years on drugs is hell on your system.

Selfish, really, but I think the only reason I went to coffee with him was to ask about Riley. I never felt much of a connection to Riley's friends. A bunch of spaced-out, rich-boy junkies who insisted on calling me "Carmelita" and rolling their "r"s at me. The one I was with-Brendan-was one of the better ones, at least, I remember. Even though all that, it took me forever to get up the courage to ask him about Riley. When I finally did, he told me that Riley had disappeared from their group 2 years ago. As much as I'd like to hope he went back home, cleaned up himself up and went to a doctor, I know "disappeared" probably means dead and Brendan was just trying to spare my feelings. And Riley probably never knew he was sick. I wish I didn't know.

Riley wasn't a good man. For most of the nine months we lived together, he was high. Lovely variety of reactions to me that gave me. Let's see... there was HornyRiley-which, horribly, reminded me a bit of James. Then there was the Riley that ignored me and... oh yes, AngryRiley. The one that yelled at me and hit me... he was always irritable when he wasn't high enough for his liking. And, apparently, lots of times that was *my* fault. There was a reason I stayed though... Sometimes he wasn't high. And, when he wasn't, he was the sweetest man I had ever known. I loved him-stupid of me, but I did-and I thought he loved me. I never would have wanted him dead, even if he did give me drugs for my birthday.

Which brings me back to my last entry. Tripping over Angel's pickle tub. I knew she was special then. First off, she was in drag, but that's not the important part. Most street musicians would have glared at me and continued playing. Angel picked me up, brushed me off and immediately after looking at my bags, asked where I was running away to. Which is when I realized the great fault in my plan. I didn't have any plan or anywhere to go. I certainly wasn't going to go home. Angel just showed her specialness more... she took me home. Her home. She even-the next day, helped me find the apartment I live in now and got me a job waitressing. Now, I hated waitressing-such an actress stereotype-but the fact remains that she went out of her way to help me get it.

I expected, after all this niceness, Angel would just disappear out of my life. After all, good things don't last.

Apparently nobody ever told Angel that. She was convinced she'd found a new kindred spirit and began dropping by all the time. After all, who better to be a best friend to a 17-year-old AIDS-infected, homosexual drag queen than a 17-year-old druggie's ex, soon-to-be stripper who didn't know she had HIV?

HIV... turning point in my life. Angel had contracted HIV from her older lover (she never called him a boyfriend) not long after she ran away from home at 16. Apparently her meat-and-potatoes parents couldn't stand to have a flamboyant, "fagalicious" son. By the time I met her, it had developed into AIDS. And, not surprisingly, she noticed the warning signs on me that I never would have connected to the disease. Bruises randomly appearing a long time after the ones from Riley healed. Shaky... tired a lot. Angel finally made me go for the testing after she stayed over and I woke up with night sweats.

So, two months after I moved out (ran away?), I found out that my needle-sharing, condom-hating boyfriend gave me HIV. It developed into AIDS 3 months after that.

Speaking of AIDS... my beeper just went off and Roger sounds like he's out of the shower. I better make sure he knows it's our AZT time. He probably left his beeper in his underwear drawer or something.

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Author's Note: Hmmm... I don't know what to say about this chapter. I like the character of Riley, I find him interesting. And I have barely any reviews! (Alright, I have one.) Ahhhhhh! Need more! Please?

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Disclaimer: Mimi Marquez, Angel and Roger are Jonathan Larson's. Brendan and Riley are mine and everything else is miscellaneous.

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	5. March 28

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March 28

Fuck Roger. I don't know what I _ever_ saw in that prick. Can't believe that lately I've been thinking about how I'd love to be married to him. You can't marry someone who doesn't even trust you! You can't even love someone who doesn't trust you! Guess I never loved him then. And he _certainly_ never loved me. Guess I was just a good enough screw to keep around for awhile.

God, how _could_ he!? He's been manipulating my time for months now... I've barely seen any men other than him, gay guys, the pervs at the club and _Mark_! But, apparently, since I ran into the guy who played Paul all the way back in high school, I've been cheating on him since Christmas. Forget I spent a month going through withdrawal. Forget that I've barely left his side, except for when he got moody and made me leave. Forget that I love him more than anything. Forget the fact that I could have _possibly_ had a life before him! Because if Roger Davis says something it _must_ be so.

I am _never_ setting foot in that loft again. If Mark wants to hang out with me, or try to do some lameass re-matchmaking, he'll have to come down here.

But, you know, I am in the perfect mood to write about after I found out about being sick. I was okay when I found out about HIV. I took my medicine like a good little girl and went to Life Support meetings with Angel. Then-AIDS. Damn, I didn't even know how long I had HIV for before then... I could have gotten it the first time I had sex at 15 for all I knew. This was a death sentence.

Riley's little world of living under influence suddenly was beginning to look very good to me. If I was going to die, I might as well enjoy my time. 

I remember my first time. Angel had dragged me to yet another Life Support meeting, which I was beginning to despise. We were all dying and I would have bet my entire wardrobe that we all regretted being sick. Basically the whole meeting was babbling junk that nobody actually believed. I think Angel sensed it was a crap day so she kept trying to hint for me to invite her to stay over. I think she even bought me a chocolate bar. I let her walk me home.

I had been sent to get Riley's drugs a few times while I was still with him, so of course I knew where the dealers were. Good old dealers, out late at night, early in the morning... and recognizing me. I am a pretty girl after all. It felt so good the first time too... The only way to forget about AIDS.

Met my next boyfriend through drugs too. Actually... he was my dealer. I wasn't going to die alone. Tommy Linzer-known to everyone else as "The Man"-26 and another "AIDS victim". There was no love... but there was affection... lust and it was a function relationship. He got sex and I got discounted/free drugs. I knew he got... favours from other customers, but I did think "boyfriend" because we did go on a few "dates". Plus, I remember... instances. Once, I remember him affectionately referring to me as his "little crackwhore", patting my ass, then sending me off to meet with an "important customer". He was too far gone to go himself. The customer was Roger. I remember his spiky-bleached hair and the whiny wannabe-Latina hanging off his arm. "Rogeeee, I'm starting to come down." "Roooogg, this isn't the normal guy, why isn't this the normal guy?" He'd never remember now... I think he was wasted at the time anyway.

That's also about when I started stripping. Even with my connection, I wasn't making enough waitressing. And, frankly, I was fucking glad to get out of that job. Stripping was fun... I loved the attention and at least I was performing for a living. A girl like me could make tons of money doing that. 

By the way, Mr. Davis-if you ever read this-I clearly remember you at the club. In fact, I know I'd given you at least 4 lap dances before we "met" on Christmas Eve. Big spender too.

Hypocrite, I bet he's there now.

Not that I care. I despise that man. 

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Author's Note: Ha ha! Bitter Mimi is fun! And I still want reviews...

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Disclaimer: Mimi, Angel, Mark, Roger, April and The Man are Jonathan Larson's. 

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	6. April 20

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**_April 20, Easter Sunday_**

I lied. I'm sitting in the loft, watching this "Easter-Bun" they got from… somewhere. I think Maureen's parents sent her some cookbook and she decided she "knew" how to use it? Anyway, they're playing a screwed-up version of Charades or something and I got nominated to watch the baking.

I really don't mind. I don't have the energy for that game anyway. I haven't been doing too well since I left Roger. I told Mark and he started some wannabe physiological babbling about implications of being alone and leaving love. Whatever. I finally got it out of him that he wants me to take Roger back. Apparently Roger's been really depressed (April-ish, even) and Mark's worrying about him. You know what? If Roger were depressed, I'd be glad, he deserves a little misery after the way he treated me. And after I went through withdrawal for him! But, I can tell Mark was lying to me. Roger's not depressed. I can see him standing there acting all buddy-buddy with Mark and Collins—throwing his arms around their shoulders, laughing and all that crap. I wouldn't be surprised if he started playing clubs again with all these songs about how "this chick cheated on him" and "how he's so much better off without her", then got a record contract. And two years later, had this "I bet you're sorry now, Mimi" moment on MTV. Well, I'm not sorry. I'll attend this little Easter Party, because I'm _not going back home and this way I'll have an excuse. But there's no way I'll get (back) together with a man who's bad for me, just because Mark randomly wants me to. _

I've spent far too much of my life with "bad" men. I shouldn't even need to mention James and Riley after all I've written about them. And then there was… well, dating your HIV-positive drug dealer is never particularly good. He wasn't even nice. Not like SoberRiley. Tommy just had drugs and charm. With the drugs, I don't even think he needed the charm. Although… It did help me get through all those "dates" he made me go on.

Alright, so I've become bitter since my last entry. I have a right to! I just realize—again—that I'm going to die alone. Who could ever want that? I don't. I can't die before I'm a quarter of a century old and alone to boot. If Roger isn't going to apologize and promise not to be such a jealous ass, I'll just have to find someone else. I know I can, Roger's told me a thousand times that I'm beautiful, not to mention all the other people that have. It sounds shallow and selfish, but, believe me, I don't want it that way. I know that Roger is my "The One". And I'd give anything to be with him… _marry him… have babies with him… to spend our lives together. And for him to be the person I'm with when I die. But I know that'll never happen. A medical… logical reason… we both have AIDS, we can't have a baby. But, God, it's more that that… I can't just go back to him, he doesn't even know he did anything wrong. And, I'm sorry for sounding like a little kid, but it __hurt me that he didn't trust me. I never gave him any reason not to. As amazing as it probably sounds, I __never cheated on Roger. I loved… still do __love him. And you don't do that to someone you love._

Yes, I was with Benny last October. Yes, I slept with him. At least he took care of me!! And, I know no one remembers, but _Roger dumped __me. He accused me of cheating and doing drugs, then told me he couldn't be with someone like "that". It's not surprising I ended up the way I did on Christmas Eve. I didn't do anything he accused me of until after he accused me. After all, what was the point of being the good girl I'm obviously not if even the man I loved didn't trust me to be good?_

But… um… back to my original point… I haven't ever had a good man in my life. Or… I suppose that's not entirely true. The first three main ones in my life _were bad… but the rest were just bad for me. I can't make myself call Roger a bad person. But still… for the longest time, the only "good man" I had in my life was Angel. And she didn't really count._

Well, they seem to have completed their little game and are coming back over here. I better put this away and get back to my ever important business of ignoring Roger.

**_LATER_**

**_AHHHHHHHH!_****_ I could kill Mark! I should have realized there was plotting at work here. Why else would Mark invite both of us to an Easter Party? He knows we haven't spoken in 3 weeks. He knew I wasn't planning on speaking to Roger._**

So, what does he do? Well, Mark drags Maureen and Joanne into his room to get their apartment on some film thing. Alright, unusual. You'd normally think he'd bring someone more… logical, but maybe he's doing something involving Maureen's performances or something. And then Collins disappears into the bathroom. 5 minutes, 10 minutes… Nobody's coming back.

And… Oh my god, they left me alone with Roger! This is the pathetic re-matchmaking I was trying to avoid. God, it was _so obvious, how did I fall into that? You have me, pretending to be engrossed with cleaning up from our "meal", and Roger, following me around. Finally, I think I had just put some glasses away, he grabs me, turns me around and kisses me hard. I'm pretty sure I slapped him… go Mimi! I mean… how dare he? He hadn't apologized, we hadn't talked for weeks, he had no right to just grab me. I thought he was better than that._

So, yeah… I slapped him then burst into tears. Memories and everything. Roger and I aren't together, he gave up any right to touch me. I think I reacted perfectly appropriately in the situation. I miss him, of course I do. You couldn't possibly think I didn't, not after reading the first entry today. I mean, I was a babbling sap. I couldn't admit it, though. That would show him how… how much I couldn't live without him. Can't live without him. But that gives Roger an advantage. I didn't even want him to see me cry… although it was a little late for that. I couldn't make myself stop. Roger has never been able to watch me cry, and I know it was just instinct, but he came close again and pulled me into his arms. I actually let him hold me for a bit and listened to him whisper—literally into my hair—until I got my senses back and realized what was happening. I played the coward. Pushed him away, stuttered about how I "needed to go home" and ran.

I don't think that's what Mark thought would happen when he put his little plan in motion.

I wonder if he's upset I ruined it? I… didn't mean to. I just… God, I want to get back together with Roger so much! If I have to die, I want to be with him, I want us to be together when I do! I know I love him, I know I want him, but I want him to apologize. I didn't want him to kiss me, I wanted him to promise me he loved me and trusted me and wouldn't treat me like that again. I wanted…

Mi Dios… I'm soaking this page. I didn't think when you cried and wrote, tears actually splattered on the page. Apparently, they do. I'm pathetic… I still haven't been able to stop crying. I should go, before I ruin this.

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**Author's Note: Wow… I was going to have Mimi and Roger make up… then I got bored and decided not to? Lol, no, Mimi just has a mind of her own… and I'd love to see what your guys' minds have to say about this entry! Yaaaay reviews!**

**Disclaimer: Characters aren't mine… except for random references to those names you don't recognize. ;)**

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	7. April 21

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**_April 21, Good Monday_**

We made up.

Me and Roger, that is. Apparently I can't stay mad quite as easily as I thought. But then again… I've had a month to simmer over this and miss him… Maybe that was Roger's plan. But I doubt it. I think he was just too stubborn to apologize. Possibly didn't see anything wrong is what he did for a long time either. I know he figured out why I left. He had to have, otherwise he wouldn't—I should start from the beginning. You don't know what "he wouldn't". (I finally remembered that I'm writing this for someone to read.)

I guess I'll start off where I stopped writing, me sitting and crying. I realized you can't see me, I was on the fire escape. Cold, but there weren't any (as cheesy as it sounds) memories out there. After Roger treated me… the way he used to, after Christmas, when he didn't think I was cheating on him and he would take care of me. I was just so surprised when he actually held me like he did after I started to cry. I didn't think that's how someone who didn't trust me would act. And that's probably why I ran away. God, I am such a sap. But I got horribly upset just sitting in my apartment after that… God only knows how much time Roger and I spent in that place and, somehow, it was all just running through my head, over and over.

God, I am such a sappy teenage girl!! Look at what I'm writing… it's like some stupid movie, or a teen novella. I guess, any meager brain power I have left just disappears when I look at the man sleeping next to me.

Did I mention? I'm lying in my bed, on my stomach with my diary propped up on a pillow… and Roger's arm flung over my waist. If I could take a picture without disturbing him… the sun's going through the window (I never replaced the curtains after he ripped them down after our last fight) and… I've never understood that thing about "the sun playing over his features", but that's what it's doing right now. I guess I can't really call him "innocent", everyone knows neither of us are, but he looks like a little boy. Just looks so happy…

I skipped over the entire middle of my story. It's _so good that I didn't want to be an author because __no one would want to read my books. Books that have no middle? Anyway… I was sitting on my fire escape with a blanket over me. Oh yes, and crying. I really don't know how long I was out there for after I stopped writing, but I came back to my senses when I heard a male voice inside my apartment yelling my name. (I never remember to look my door… which I suppose is good in some situations.) The yelling, of course, caused me to jump in surprise and lose my pen. And that's when Roger figured out where I was. By this point, I was too shocked to remember to cry so there were all these tears were drying—more accurately, freezing—on my face and I'm positive that my nose was red and my make-up was running down my face… that's how Roger found me. This sounds so… not as meaningful when I put it into words, but he just walked over, hugged me and told me I was beautiful. It sounds so random, and meaningless, but it meant so much to me. Whenever Roger used to talk about how lucky he was to have me, the word beautiful always came up. It made me feel like he still wanted to be with me and…_

Maybe if it was just that I'd look insane for taking him back. I mean… I can't go around being with every guy who calls me beautiful. That would be problem causing. And then Roger would be right in everything he says.

And I'm rambling. I keep going off on tangents here. Well, he was holding and started wiping the freezing tears off my face… and that's when I remembered to start crying again. He picked me up and carried me back into the apartment, actually setting me down on the bed. Normally, after a huge fight like that, I would have been horrified to have him in my room like that, but I was just so happy that he might take me back that I couldn't… He actually laid down beside me, holding me. In the lowest part of me, I wanted to pull away and yell at him, but after fighting for that long and nearly getting him with me, I just couldn't make myself do it. And then he apologized. Roger Davis actually fucking apologized to me! A big, heartfelt, babbly apology, that had to have been everything he had been thinking since we broke up. But that's not the point. The point is, he _did apologize._

He looked so scared when he said it too. Maybe Roger was scared to give away any advantage too… we're just ridiculous and prideful—the two of us. Or maybe he was just scared I wouldn't forgive him? I don't know… I did forgive him. How could I not? He did everything I was holding out for. And I cried. It's really not a surprised. I seem to cry at the drop of a hat lately. I forgave him and I cried and Roger held me and we fell asleep in each other's arms. And then—at maybe midnight—we were awake. And… well… we reconciled physically. Not really a surprise.

And, although it _was amazing—make-up sex always is—that wasn't what made me so happy. It was the falling asleep in each other's arms. We never make up by falling asleep in each other's arms… that's a relationship thing. Making up… we generally have sex, then fall asleep exhausted. For some reason when we wake up—everytime!—we're on different sides of the bed and not touching each other at __all. But even after we had our traditional make-up sex, we slept in each other's arms again. I woke up this morning and Roger's arms were twined around my waist… my leg was flung over him and my head was pressed up against his chest. It was just… perfect. Showing what we're meant to be._

Hehe, Roger just rolled over onto his stomach and now his arm is back over my waist. He's even automatically touching me in his sleep. I can't believe I ever doubted that this man loved me! I love him too much to be so stupid again… look at how wonderfully he's proved this to me!

Hehe, something more amusing just happened… I have my bedstand/bookcase (Benny bought it for me way long ago), right? And on it is this disposable camera, I almost used it up at my birthday—there's two pictures left on it or something. So, I reach over, carefully, and grab it, then take a picture of Rog sleeping. He still had that whole, adorable, beautiful little boy look to him. I couldn't help it!

And now he's groaning and moving around, I think he's waking up. And even if he's not, I better get up anyway, cuz he keeps "accidently" hitting me with his arm. Dumb musician. (Picture me saying that with a huge grin.) _My dumb musician. _

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**Author's Note: Sorry this took so long… I'm happy to have Mimi and Roger back together, though, I feel so bad for Mimi! :)**

**Disclaimer: Characters aren't mine, obviously.**

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	8. April 30

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**_April 30_**

I've been putting off writing in this muchly… the whole point was to summarize my diaries (basically my life) and yet for a month, at least, I've just been babbling about my relationship with Roger. And in telling my story, I haven't even gotten up to Benny.

Roger and I are watching a video, he's really into it (lots of explosions and action and stuff—he promised me we could watch my choice next) so I'm completely free to write. I don't know if he even realizes I'm writing, but that's okay. I'm happy to be with him again. That's why I haven't been writing much lately… just been letting myself enjoy our relationship while it's good. (I'm sorry, Roger, I don't mean to be cynical.) Maybe things'll actually _stay good this time. I would love that so much…_

Benny. I'm sorry, I keep getting off track. I met Benny on my 18th birthday. Angel took me out to a bar/club to celebrate me using my real ID for the first time. Benny was there and I was actually clean for once. I was just so excited that it was my 18th birthday and I wanted to enjoy it for real.

Anyway, we got there and Angel was off dancing almost immediately, because, well, that's Angel. Normally I would have been too, but I think I was just so overwhelmed by the fact that I was 18. I was grown-up. All my life, I had dreamed of being grown-up and now I finally was. I didn't feel any different than I did when I was 17 years, 364 days and yet at the same time, everything seemed so different. I remember being totally immersed in my thoughts and wishing I was home so I could write them down, when this incredibly gorgeous black man sat on the stool beside me. He ordered a beer and… a Cosmopolitan, I think, "for the lady". I was completely disappointed because, well, this beautiful man was taken, until the bartender set the drink in front of _me. Then I realized what was going on. It's an intoxicating feeling, knowing you can attract a man like that, when all you've had in your life before is scum. (Scum in the disguise of attractive men, but scum nonetheless.)_

I don't have many other clear memories of that night. I know we talked for a long time and we danced (oh god, is he an amazing dancer!) and he bought me a few more drinks. I didn't even think about drugs. And after all that, we went back to my apartment.

I think that was the first time I ever truly understood the emotion behind sex that most couples have. At the time, I thought I loved Riley, but I've figured out that was just a stop on the way of looking for something. (It's cheesy, I know, but that something is Roger. Give me a break, I just got back into this relationship.) But with Benny… there was raw emotion behind that and it terrified me. Love at first sight. I did love Benny, I can't deny it. He loved me too, I know. But I also know that love at first sight hit me with Rog too. It wasn't nearly so terrifying for me that time, although it must have been for him. I'm sorry everything keeps coming back to Rog, I'll get back to my story.

The next morning, I woke up in Benny's arms and discovered he was Benjamin Coffin the Third, my landlord. That afternoon, I moved my things out of Tommy's place and broke it off with him for good. That evening, Benny came back to see me again, and told me he was married.

I cried… god, almost as hard as I did when I found out I had AIDS, or the night that Roger and I got back together. But Benny cried too, and he told me he loved me… We sat on my fire escape until midnight, talking about love at first sight and our pasts. Benny was the first man I ever met who didn't judge me because of my past or make me out to be the stereotype of my job. (He loved having me dance for him, though.) We decided that love at first sight doesn't exactly come everyday, we had to try this.

Hmmm… apparently Rog isn't as out of it as I thought… he seems to want to write something in here. I… uh… I guess I'll let him.

**_HEY GORGEOUS. I… UM… NOT A BIG FAN OF WRITING ANYTHING OTHER THAN SONGS, BUT I'LL WRITE WHILE YOU WATCH YOUR GIRL-MOVIE. _**

**_WHY ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT BENNY!_**

**_THAT STUPID ASSHOLE DOESN'T DESERVE YOU!_**

**_NO GUY WHO WON'T GIVE UP HIS CAGE-MONKEY WIFE FOR YOU DESERVES YOU!_**

**_AND I LOVE YOU MORE THAN MONKEY-MAN COULD EVER LOVE YOU! _**

**_LATER_**

Oh… my… Probably should have remembered what I was writing _before I gave this book to Roger. I'll have to make that up to him… wink, wink. Make sure he doesn't think I still love Benny. Then again, maybe he didn't read it, just saw Benny's name. Doubt it, though. Oh well…_

Don't know when I fell out of love with Benny. Maybe it was when I realized we really didn't have any hope of having a future together. He wasn't going to leave his wife, not even for me. No matter how much he loved me, he just got too used to his "rich" lifestyle. We tried to think of ways he could have gotten out of his marriage and still had the money… we couldn't do it. The only thing we could come up with was to find a way for Alison to have an affair and get caught (they had a pre-nuptial agreement), but Benny said she'd never do it. She was too "devoted" to him, which was crazy because he wasn't even showing her affection anymore. Not since I came along.

I eventually figured out that I needed to break it off, though. It hurt too much. Besides, I couldn't be the girl who broke up his marriage and left him penniless and embarrassed. He had worked too hard for this, I couldn't be the "other woman". Besides, it was killing me. (Well, I'm not _totally selfless!) I knew this had to end._

I could have ended it in a better way, though. I just stopped talking to him. I didn't show up for own dates, I walked right past him after work, I screened his calls and I wouldn't open the door for him when he came by. I know, he could have unlocked it… but he respected me too much to do that. That was what caused the whole AngryBenny-ness on Christmas Eve…

Yeah, there's guilt. I couldn't do it slow, I couldn't. It killed me not to be with him, too. I just knew it had to be better in the long-term. Benny had to stay with Ali… and I had to… not be with him. It was hell.

I was so good when I was with Benny… I barely ever did drugs. Never had a reason to, I was happy just to be with him. I mean, sometimes I just wanted to feel extra-good, or the girls at the club passed me something, but it wasn't often and I never did anything with injection. But I started up again after I left Benny. What else was I supposed to do? Miserable… dying… alone. Went back to smack then. I actually think it was only about a week after I started again, that I had a full addiction.

They say that once you've had an addiction, you're suspect to both it and other addictions for years afterwards. True. I'm totally addicted to caffeine now… I need hot chocolate to start off the day. (I hate coffee, so much. I think it reminds me of James.) I think that's probably why I went back so easy too. An emotional wreck and… well, Tommy was always there. He didn't mind that we "broke up", he still got what he wanted and… he liked having me around. I dissected this once. He knew he was going to die and he wanted to "live life to the fullest", while he was living. Pretty girls and power was just a part of that.

Anyway, I'm bored now, I'm gonna go see if Roger wants to play a game with me. I'm thinking "Truth or Dare". I can find out the story behind that Monkey-Man comment _and make my little Benny-slip up to Roger!  _

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**Author's Note: Yaaaay! I love the end of this chapter, and I love Mimi and Roger talking about the movies… the middle is kinda iffy, but that's for you guys to tell me if it's good or not. (And, I figured out why I'm not getting reviews. I need some M/R or M/M! Don't you worry… I'm sure something can be arranged ;).)**

**Disclaimer: Not mine… oh goodness, if they were, though…**

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